The "Honest" Beta Deceived Day and Night by a Twisted Obsessive - Chapter 35

“Be a good boy. Point the camera at yourself and let me teach you.”

If you want to die, go ahead, but why on earth are you dragging me down with you?

Duan Huaijing didn’t care about feigning sleep anymore. He was terrified that if he closed his eyes now, he’d never open them again. He rolled over, propped himself up, and with lightning speed, lunged to snatch the knife from “The Eye’s” hand.

The Eye gripped it tight, refusing to let go. His voice was calm, yet possessed a jagged edge of madness that seemed to explode in the silence of the night. “Kill me, and you’ll be free.”

As he spoke, the tip of the blade pressed deeper. Duan Huaijing could feel the vibration of the man’s chest against his own, and the sharp sting of the metal beginning to breach skin.

“Do you think I don’t want to?!” Duan Huaijing’s voice cracked, bordering on a scream.

But he didn’t want to be a murderer.

The knife was being forced forward by the other man; it was as if The Eye felt no pain, leaning into the blade with a masochistic urge to pierce his own heart. The Eye seemed to read his mind, staring at him with a predatory, glinting gaze. His voice was a seductive whisper, like the serpent tempting someone to bite the poisoned apple.

“You have two paths now, babe. One: kill me and gain your freedom, but live the rest of your life as a killer.”

“Two: become my accomplice and stay by my side forever.”

He’s sick! Truly, utterly deranged!

Duan Huaijing was a rational man. In his eyes, nothing was “forever.” The future was merely a collection of small moments and memories stitched together. A lifetime was too long; it was filled with variables that could turn the most steadfast allies into enemies. To him, the word “forever” wasn’t a promise, it was a curse.

The Eye let out a soft, airy laugh. “You see? Even when given the chance, you can’t bring yourself to do it.”

The blade gleamed coldly in the dark. The Eye’s fingers were sliced, blood blooming and dripping  one drop, two, four. Yet he didn’t flinch. Instead, his smile widened.

He reached out a blood-stained hand and tapped Duan Huaijing’s lips. The stark crimson of the blood made Duan Huaijing’s features appear even more vivid and delicate. Disgusted, Duan Huaijing instinctively tried to wipe it away, but his hand was caught. The Eye used his thumb to smear the blood across his lips, crushing the skin with a frantic intensity, as if trying to grind the vivid colour into Duan Huaijing’s very soul.

In the struggle, Duan Huaijing’s eyes caught something on the man’s chest right over his heart. There were words tattooed there.

Duan Huaijing.

The tattoo looked fresh. Under the strain of their movements, some of the characters had split, seeping fresh blood in a gruesome display. Duan Huaijing’s brain stalled. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

When did he get that? Why would he tattoo my name there?

The Eye followed his gaze downward. “Do you like it, babe? Or rather, does it look familiar?”

Duan Huaijing took an involuntary step back. Familiar? Of course it was familiar! That was his own handwriting from the contract he had signed years ago. The Eye had actually tattooed his signature onto his own body.

The Eye loomed over him, a venomous snake cornering its prey. “The contract has been etched into my blood and bone. It is permanent. Neither of us can ever go back on it.”

As he moved, drops of blood slid down his wrist toward his heart, like demonic flowers blooming over the script. Duan Huaijing’s mind was a mess. He wanted to scream a thousand insults, but he could only repeat: “You’re a madman! You’re truly insane!”

The Eye pulled him into a crushing embrace, his voice a mix of obsession and dark allure. “The void of this madman’s desire was filled by you, bit by bit. You’re an accomplice, babe.”

Duan Huaijing closed his eyes in despair. He regretted it. He regretted ever getting involved with this psychopath.

***

Following the escape attempt, The Eye dismissed every member of staff in the villa. His intent was clear: he wanted Duan Huaijing’s world to consist of him alone. To Duan Huaijing, the man’s illness seemed to have reached a terminal stage.

At first, Duan Huaijing didn’t think much of it. Even when the staff were there, they were silent, performing their duties and vanishing. But now, sitting alone in the sprawling, empty villa, he felt the crushing weight of the silence. Without the ambient noise of other people, the world felt as though it had abandoned him.

Worse still, The Eye turned off all the lights before leaving. Without the remote control the man carried, the entire villa was plunged into pitch blackness. The only light Duan Huaijing ever saw was when The Eye returned home.

Spend enough time in the dark, and your mind begins to play tricks. Every shadow looks human. Fear and paranoia became his only companions.

The second day passed. By the third day, he began to lose track of time, his eyes constantly darting toward the front door. By the fourth day, he couldn’t take it anymore. As The Eye prepared to leave, Duan Huaijing caught him, asking desperately when he would be back.

The Eye gave him a cool, detached look. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Duan Huaijing’s mind was sluggish. What question? When did he ask? It felt as though months had passed, yet it had only been days.

The Eye waited for a moment. When the answer didn’t come, he turned toward the door. “I’ll be back late tonight. There’s food in the pot; just heat it up.”

Duan Huaijing remained lost in his thoughts until the heavy sound of the door closing echoed through the hall. As the last sliver of light was swallowed by the closing door, his eyes finally flickered with a trace of emotion.

He remembered the question now.

Will you ever leave me again?

But The Eye was already gone.

Duan Huaijing waited. He waited until his stomach growled for the fifth time before fumbling through the dark to heat his meal. After eating, he sat in the void. He had no phone to pass the time; his entire existence was reduced to waiting for a man to come home.

It was boring, yet it had become his reality. His mindset had shifted from “How dare he lock me up” to “When is he coming back?” Only when the man returned was there a voice to break the silence, a light to see by a reason to feel alive.

Terrified that he might miss the man’s return, he bundled up his duvet and scurried to the front door. Leaning his head against the wood and clutching his pillow, he drifted off to sleep right there on the floor.

On the other side of a screen, The Eye traced the image of the curled-up figure with his finger, his obsession unconcealed.

“President Xie, do you think this proposal is feasible?” someone asked.

Xie Yun put his phone away, instantly reverting to his cold, professional persona. “Keep revising.”

The image of the huddling figure on his phone looked like a stray cat with no sense of security, occasionally peeking through the door crack to see if anyone was there.

****

When Duan Huaijing felt the door being pushed open against his back, he scrambled out of the way, squinting at the intruder. The lights flicked on, the sudden brightness making his eyes sting and water.

“You’re back!” he cried, his voice thick with emotion. He tried to stand, but his legs were numb.

“Mmh,” The Eye replied. He picked him up like a child and used a handkerchief to tenderly wipe away the tears. “Why were you sleeping here?”

Duan Huaijing was too embarrassed to admit he was waiting for him. “It’s… it’s cooler here,” he lied.

The Eye nodded. “Have you eaten?” He moved to check the kitchen.

Duan Huaijing had developed a conditioned reflex; the moment The Eye moved away, he feared the lights would go out and he’d be cast back into the void. He instinctively grabbed the man’s sleeve. The Eye paused, looking down at the white-knuckled grip on his coat. He stayed silent, waiting patiently for Duan Huaijing to speak.

Duan Huaijing bit his lip, frustrated by his own dependency. But as the man prepared to move again, panic flared, and his pride crumbled. “I can answer your question now.”

“Which question?” The Eye asked, his tone unreadable.

Duan Huaijing closed his eyes, looking like a man facing execution. “I promise… I won’t leave you.”

The Eye’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes shimmered. “And how shall you convince me to believe you?”

Duan Huaijing froze. He thought the answer was enough. The Eye turned and headed to the kitchen to check the stove. Duan Huaijing stumbled after him, his voice shaking. “I don’t know what else to do.”

He didn’t realize how vulnerable he looked, with his head bowed and his neck exposed. He only knew he couldn’t face the darkness again. He would say anything to hold onto this lifeline.

The Eye’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked away, fighting the urge to take him right then. He needed Duan Huaijing to commit fully, with every fibre of his being.

“You only had half a bowl of porridge,” The Eye noted, lifting the lid of the pot. “You didn’t touch the vegetables.”

Duan Huaijing, still anxious about his promise, was caught off guard by the change in topic. “I didn’t have much of an appetite,” he admitted.

“Are you hungry now?”

He wasn’t, but he could feel the low-pressure atmosphere radiating from the man. He nodded instinctively. “Yes.”

The man gave a soft “Mmh” and began reheating the food. The minutes felt like hours. Once the food was on the table, Duan Huaijing toyed with his chopsticks, still trying to find a way to prove his loyalty.

“Have you thought of a way?” The Eye asked suddenly.

Duan Huaijing shook his head.

“Shall I teach you?” the man’s voice was cool and flat, as if discussing the weather. “We’ll carve my mark into you. That way, every time you feel the pain, the first thing you think of will be my name.”

The room went deathly silent. Duan Huaijing gripped his chopsticks, his heart racing. “I… I’ll think about it.”

The Eye didn’t push. He simply placed some food in the boy’s bowl. As Duan Huaijing ate distractedly, he suddenly looked up and met the man’s gaze. Even through the mask, he knew exactly what the man was looking at.

Duan Huaijing looked away quickly. “Can I  ask for something?”

The villa was filled with cameras, recording his every move. The Eye already knew what he wanted, but he played dumb. “Hmm?”

“Can I have something to talk to you through?”

As The Eye blew on the hot food for him, the poor Beta didn’t realize he was walking straight into the hunter’s trap. Let’s go to hell together, babe.

“Is that a no?” Duan Huaijing asked tentatively.

“You can. The surveillance system has a two-way audio function.”

Duan Huaijing didn’t care that he was being watched. He just needed to hear a voice. He wasn’t a talkative person, but after being isolated for so long, he felt his very ability to speak was atrophying.

On the first day he had access to the audio, he was like a child with a new toy, constantly chatting with The Eye. Their conversations were simple: reminders to eat or sleep, or Duan Huaijing rambling about nonsense. The house was still dark, but the psychological comfort of a voice was immense.

One evening, Duan Huaijing lay on the sofa, listening to the sound of The Eye working on the other end, and drifted off. When he woke, he found himself in a state of disarray. Panic-stricken, he dropped the intercom and looked down at himself, his mind flooded with images of the things The Eye did to him in his dreams. The feeling surged back.

He curled up, letting out a helpless “Nnh.”

Suddenly, the intercom crackled to life. “Doing something naughty?”

Duan Huaijing’s palms were damp. He covered his eyes with one hand, trying to steady his breathing. “I’m tired… I’m going to sleep.”

The Eye saw right through the lie. “Do you know how to make yourself feel good?”

Duan Huaijing froze. How would he…

“Don’t stop,” the man’s voice continued, relentless. “Be a good boy. Point the camera at yourself and let me teach you.”

Duan Huaijing felt as though he were under a spell. His damp hands fumbled with the camera. “Can you… can you see from this angle?”

There was a pause. “A little lower.”

He obeyed. “Now?”

“Perfect.” The voice coming through the speaker was heavy and thick.

Duan Huaijing’s fingers shook. He had never done this for himself before. His face was flushed crimson as he followed every command. Under the man’s guidance, his eyes grew misty, shimmering like a clear spring.

“Babe, you look beautiful.”

When the moment passed, Duan Huaijing’s head was tucked into his chest with shame. Then, a command came through the speaker. “Look up. Look at me.”

Duan Huaijing stared blankly at the camera lens, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes still watery. Several seconds of silence followed. “Did it. did the connection cut out?” he asked, tilting his head.

Then came a non-sequitur. The man’s voice was husky, thick with lingering lust: “No. The screen just got dirty.”

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